High stakes
Walker
Nickel dime
Talker
Your pockets possess
Only
Lint
~
DBrown Fisher
© May 1997
Right down I walk around towards the sea
Foot-printed sand underneath my feet
Tracks left as memories past
Match my given path
Unknown haste
Awaits
Shores of desire lapped with liquid passion
All forever in constant motion
Cloak the prints of time
Rippled patterns divine
Unknown sign
Awaits
Back to the water I desire to flow
Again as one my fire will grow
While winds howl my distinctive sound
I reign like mountains above the ground
To lay me down
Unknown now
Awaits
~
DBrown Fisher
© March 1997
Confession mocks as hypothesis
Parasitic synergistic relents
And flows again
Transposed feelings determinants compose
Matrices come tumbling adjacent
Mirrors crumble and space unfolds
A union of transcribed digressions
Deliverance constitutes divergence
Axis bold of continence
As proof
To contain a chaotic reign
Order packages truth
And flows again
~
DBrown Fisher
© Oct 1996
I have been around
Around in circles
And it’s time to stop
Dizzy with possibilities
Stumbling and staggering
Trying again to leave
Around another corner
A round or two
Bellied up to the bar
Shackled and subdued
Dizzy again, with intoxication
Swilling down the brew
Around some other place
I found time confined
At a pace without haste
In this space I will reside
Where the circles turn purpose
The wine is o’ so fine
Come drink placid moments
And relinquish
What is on your mind
~
DBrown Fisher
© April 1996
It is difficult to understand how any dainty human
Could have been able to resolve such a fable.
As this illusion at hand
Resourcefulness is in demand.
Into the light strides a glorious sight,
Without any fears and experienced in years,
Here
To champion away my chary decay.
When that primal day began pushing it’s way
To energy’s newest pattern construed,
All rational basis was but an oasis
Far from reason’s comfort.
Reality’s treason, overture of seasons,
Took the course of only the worst
Flooding the plain of my mind’s domain.
To splinter the gates,
Releasing captive fates:
Time
To understand what is in hand.
A book of wondrous sorts discloses and contorts
All which I thought was cognitively caught.
In the eye of my mind,
Calm, while the storm all around rages on,
Sweeping up those less ground than most.
Still within my sight,
Silhouette in radiant light,
From which came a shrieking dismay
And over my head to all my dread,
Thought
Washed clean a spirit grown mean.
“Literacy saps memory,” can this be
A lighting bolt strikes uncanny results
To distort my synapse comfort,
And force epic trials, pages flow for miles.
Starts comprehension from bardic tradition
Away from Olympus sent on a mission.
Truth
To seed old soil fertilized in toil.
Homer being first, his radiance burst
Over the clouds his light shrouds
Like “the young Dawn with finger tips of rose.”
Making my mind bright with his delights
Of animated reality and human frivolity,
Illuminating my sight
Of times without logic’s fight.
Once a tool, now wielded for cruel
Reasons unfit, logic which
Became
My epic struggle, so many fears to muzzle.
With Odysseus I journeyed forth
Into a dark dismal embark,
The pages turned as a candle burned
Away throughout the night: our plight
Flowed onward so, fast past the thrones
Of external correctives towards internal dialectics.
I did go leaving behind that hero
To reign supreme
In memory’s being
Now
The picture has a frame thanks to Homer’s fame.
The colors are still blinding, humankind redefining
The essence to balance nature left to chance.
Storming across the plain, destroying all laws that remain,
To allow growth anew not to be misconstrued
This time around
Silence resounds
Pictured
Throughout the ages by ink on pages.
Agamemnon and Oedipus, revenge and nemesis,
Catalysis the need and analysis decrees
There to be insight focused upon the plight.
Hence came comedies, here is Aristophanes
Tragedy’s discourse could have been worse.
With guiding mimesis as social degenerates
Encoding the means, so many truths are seen.
The law of censorship is developed,
Progress once again enveloped,
Growing
I feel empathy towards the colors’ frequency.
Adjusting to thought sight, Plato’s light
Helps the eye calm hues and lines.
To deduce an inductive truce,
Dueling dialectic grows didactic encyclopedic,
A social contract blooms in the process,
While nature construes to once again undo
Storming rage to flood the plain.
Burying with might
From human sight
Light
Into the night ages old before a new tale be told.
Impressionistic resemblance of cognitive balance
Exists an image forever to change;
By precise thoughts, the masters caught
Essence evolving in the human mind.
Relationship with environment
Natural covenant
Colors
Never relent illuminating the decent.
Down the floods flow past ancient Rome,
Where Virgil resides as mysticism collides
With totalitarian hedonism resembling traditional stoicism’s
Clash into metamorphosis clamoring paralysis.
For change is necessary and survival contrary
To the popular beliefs of nightmarish grief
Stricken the minds human to conflict then.
Virgil and Ovid be praised
For stoking the fires of rage
Change
The ability to which my survival is pitched.
Ephyllion upon method coding digression
Aggress devolution’s imbalance, to adjust revolution
Dehortative disharmony aflow civility bleeds
Into fertile valleys awash with exhortative journeys.
To monastic orphanages a last refuge for ages
Shapes of things to come brings
The picture I can almost see human
Condition in flight.
Rage and might
Life
Turns over the seasons as humanity treason.
Reasons no longer illuminates, darkness shadows the plain;
Nature remains clouding history drowning
My mind wanders the image’s wonders
To dark to even imagine the treason.
Humanity’s nightmare
Centuries of despair
Somewhere
Light so bright burns away this night’s plight.
Unknown response, shelter of thought brought
Out to the light, Heorot survived the night.
With Beowulf’s foundation supporting committas relations,
Where hero and king are the same thing,
The hierarchy of condition fought into submission
By a single character’s woe to dutifully bestow
Humanity with sight to overcome individual plight.
Champion truthness
Endurance harness
Evolution
Continued overture upon turn with mystic spurns.
Shafts of light hoard the sky board.
Nomadic discourse or brought on purpose,
The conditioned razor must always favor
Simplicity finest hour: hero martyred in honor.
Drum a dirge from material forward into classical:
To be born again blooming in spring’s wind
Blown back on course to expect the worst,
Conspires mortal souls
Material to control
Fires
A greed in need of resolution by a new constitution.
Rebirth is eminent through Augustinian meditant.
Calming again, but the storm never relents,
To mighty a rage unfettered by words on a page,
Nature floods energies run into synergies.
Between the ages
Revolve the sages
Conscious
Guides light unrelenting penetrates night sending.
Hellish imagery defines where darkness resides
In Dante’s mind the “City of Dis” confines
The horrors of humanity, hierarchy of eternity.
Rational mysticism evolves into a macrocosm
Franciscan Radicalism’s remedy floods allegorical comedy
Sin dances naked with the emperor forsaken.
To malbojes sent where evil repents
Agon of mind
Dragon of rhyme
Line
To which the image is now a discernible privilege.
Glory in sight, imagination, resolution through meditation,
Transmigressions of professions,
Caught the dark ages in the light of pages.
As black ink stuck to white muck,
Conquer the descent and catalysis the ascent.
For human reason may weather the seasons
Of time’s nature, essence without favor,
But to try again
Regardless of humans
Contains
My epic device to survive the overture thrice.
Now I can somewhat understand
The essence fabled is merely a label.
For evolution’s demand in the sands
Time’s existence as physical conscience.
Human relativity
Natural affinity
Beauty
Might be the laughter as the storm rages after.
Final days commence from this plain hence
Begins the epic of my didactic.
To evolve harmoniously within the seasons’ anomaly,
The overture of treason being my own reason,
Fallacy of thought, a discourse once wrought
With ego’s content to never relent.
To admit mistakes and allow the gates
To open wide my mind
Nothing captive to find
Imagination
Reigns forever supreme in the eye of storming dreams.
As the constant pages slow, the distant light grows
To illuminate my guide smiling to confide
Anymore upon my brain when you know it is drained.
And sleep of the ages will silence these pages
Only as the dormant beast awaits humanity’s feast
When these words will nourish the world.
While spirit’s choice in your comforting voice
Decides to be free,
Between you and me
Remains
The eye of calm as the storm rages on
Forever.
HERE TIME THOUGHT TRUTH BECAME NOW
PICTURED GROWING LIGHT
COLORS CHANGE LIFE
SOMEWHERE EVOLUTION FIRES
CONSCIOUS LINE CONTAINS BEAUTY IMAGINATION REMAINS
FOREVER
~
DBrown Fisher
© April 1996
What in the hell is going on?
Have we gone completely wrong?
Pay attention people!
Can’t you see?
Black Ops spraying lies around
Sensory overloads abound
Distractive chaos dribbles order
Big Mac & fries, make it a double
Lift yourself up to the bar
Raise it higher and get off the ground
Step from the shadow into the light
Drop all this pathetic strife
If you really have the guts
You’ll see it’s hardest
Getting beyond yourself
To give another
Individual help
~
DBrown Fisher
© Feb 1996
Form and line
Rhyme
Harmonious in time
Chime
Spacial designs
Mime
~
DBrown Fisher
© Jan 1996
A whispered word of desire
To ignite a fire.
A spoken word of confidence
With subtle intent.
A screamed word of hate
That only exacerbates.
But
A silent word of compassion
Is
Golden
~
DBrown Fisher
© July 1995
Strong winds are blowing,
So up with the sails.
We’re racing a northern
To the gateways of hell.
The captain has mutinied,
Jumped ship on high seas,
After raping lady liberty.
The rest are left upon the decks;
Chaos rules the wheel
And steers into oblivion
Our fates a treasure to steal.
Even though history,
Offered a steady command,
But, was abandoned long ago
Forgotten at first sight of land.
No place to disembark this ship,
Even though the devil’s tongue slipped:
Telling us of our fates
As we dock up to Hates’ gates.
~
DBrown Fisher
© June 1995
In walks a small child
Sits to the floor and sees
The lingering of morning
Subside into the strongest radiance of day.
While the youth continues to stay,
All the colors dance and play.
Continuous delights flow over
In seas of love colors.
Waves of tickling energies
Caressing the adult to discover and know
That everything must turn.
As seasons burn the candles of night,
Do not flicker only stay steady bright,
To catch the elder turning out of sight
Into a pearl-glassed glow,
No other light so bold:
With winged-whisperings
Goodnight.
~
DBrown Fisher
© March 1995